A Lost City, a New World
by drgemini86
Summary: Daniel is ready to consider dating again, but not everyone is happy. Set during and after Lost City. Daniel/Elizabeth, Sam/Daniel, probably a bit of Sam/Jack.
1. Chapter 1

**A Lost City, A New World, by DrGemini86**

_**Summary: **__Daniel is ready to consider dating again, but not everyone is happy. Set during and after Lost City. Daniel/Elizabeth, Sam/Daniel, probably a bit of Sam/Jack. _

_**Rating: **__T_

_**Season: **__7-8_

_**Genre: **__New Romance, UST_

_**Spoilers: **__season 10 aired in 2006, behave. _

_**Author Notes: **__Recent musings on SGA: Rising and SG1: Lost City had me wondering about Daniel/Elizabeth (he pretty much fan-boyed her when they met; at least in my mind's eye). _

0o0o0o0o0o0

Daniel Jackson had got to do a lot of things during his tenure at Stargate Command; a ridiculous amount of things. For one shining moment, finally meeting Doctor Elizabeth Weir was almost 'up there' with decoding the Unas language; in one blind, insane moment, it threatened to eclipse opening the Stargate, until his rational mind chastised him for being completely foolish. But he admitted, if only to himself, that at least an admiration for her was acceptable – he had referenced her work when he had drafted the initial treaty between the Tok'ra and Earth. For another very, very brief moment, he had forgotten whom she had replaced; although that was hardly her fault. Still, it took all that he had to act 'normal' around her, whatever 'normal' was in his line of employment.

He felt himself inexplicably bumbling around her, racing to get words out, racing to convey to her the seriousness of her role, of Stargate Command's work; of its importance to humankind, to the galaxy, to peace overall. He could almost hear Jack in his head chastising him for not finishing sentences as his mind raced faster than his mouth could convey. Jack. How stupid he felt as once more his friend came to the fore: Jack had stupidly downloaded an Ancient repository into his head. _Again. _Jack had protected him in doing so, but still. Perhaps there was an element of scientific curiosity or just plain selfishness, but _he _had wanted to know what it had felt like; he wanted to experience it for himself, to get a better insight into the race who had built the Stargates, whose Lost City they had been searching for. They could only hope the Asgard would help them again once they had learned what they had needed to, before they would lose Jack for good.

The success of their overall mission relied on too many variables: on whether Teal'c and Bra'tac could get enough ships to help Earth; whether Weir would let them use the Prometheus; whether Jack could hold on until he suddenly found the Lost City; whether they would indeed find the Lost City; whether the President or Kinsey would keep Stargate Command open. True, they had been through a vast multitude of life and death scenarios, and come out tops much of the time, they couldn't take their 'luck' for granted. Losing Janet had brought that home all too clearly.

His thoughts dwelt on Weir again. He found himself thinking about her an absurd amount. And them came _that _feeling in his stomach, which he hadn't felt in a _long _time. Alone in the dimly-lit locker room, he smiled to himself slightly. He expected to feel guilt: after all, he had joined the Stargate program to find Sha're. But the years had changed Daniel Jackson; even if not her, he felt he could move on with his life again. It didn't mean he didn't love Sha're – of course he did – but he had been alone a long time; 'dying' had changed him.

In olive green BDUs, he sat on a bench, hunched over, as he thought of how he had felt when his friends had found him nearly a year ago, in their quest for the Lost City. And for the first time, he allowed himself to dwell on his initial reaction to seeing Sam on Vis Uban. Without his memories, he had seen her; finally _seen _her. But then came the guilt and a passing instinct that perhaps maybe he had hurt her and his punishment had been to lose himself. And then of course he had spent the past years regaining his memories, reliving past traumas and experiencing new ones; but he had a new purpose, a fresh zeal finally; he felt stronger, more grounded and confident. He recalled a pop-psychology article in one of Cassie's magazines which claimed that it could take over a hundred days to 'get over an ex'. While there was no 'ex' to speak of, he mapped that claim onto the present year and felt that maybe he could start again.

His musings were interrupted by the door opening slowly. He closed his eyes, hoping for more time. He looked up to see a concerned looking Sam in the doorway. He smiled wryly and nodded, pushing his glasses back up his nose. She looked at him for a moment before entering the locker room and sitting down next to him, her gaze dropping to her hands in her lap, as though waiting for him to speak. He glanced at her and asked,

"How's Jack doing?"

She glanced at him and said with a sigh, "He's still packing; I brought him a naquadah generator and then he carried on getting supplies." She ran a hand through her hair and asked, glancing at him again, "What do you think of Doctor Weir?"

He replied with a small smile, "She's got big shoes to fill."

He felt his stomach tighten as he thought of saying something to her. Perhaps he was being foolish. He hesitated. As though sensing this, she looked at him in concern.

"Daniel?"

His face reddening, he looked down at the floor. She waited, sensing something was off. Maybe he felt guilty; she knew he had wanted to download the Ancient repository; she sensed that he was jealous at some level, as though he was still feeling unimportant, as though he felt he didn't belong. She felt sadness for a very brief moment. Regardless of the time that had passed, his increase in confidence over the past year, his insecurity and doubts were still there, lurking beneath the surface. But he had been through a lot; more than most people in a lifetime; they all had.

"It's nothing."

Knowing full well that each time they stepped through the Stargate could be the last time, she nudged him and said with a small smirk, "Daniel."

He glanced at her again, this time looking awkward. "It's really embarrassing."

She quipped with another smirk, hoping the dim light would hide the hue of her suddenly hot cheeks, "As embarrassing as being found naked on a strange world?"

He chuckled softly, recalling Vis Uban, not for the first time. When he stopped, he shook his head and looked at her. He said, a touch bashful, "It's just funny how we realise things when we have much bigger things afoot."

She said nothing, silently prompting him to continue. He looked at the ground again and then back at her. He said, his face hopeful, "I was just thinking – rather selfishly of course – that I'm finally ready to start dating again." He shrugged, saying self-deprecatingly. "Not that I would know what to do these days." He smiled again, scratching behind his ear nervously. "When all this was over..." The _if _was implied, as ever. "... I was thinking of maybe asking Doctor Weir out for a drink or a meal."

As he made to get up, feeling both embarrassed yet unburdened at musing out loud, Sam remained seated, her ears suddenly feeling full of sound, of her heartbeat, as her stomach felt as though it had plummeted into her boots. She became very aware of her breathing, of her heart rate too, as she felt rooted to the spot as he, unaware of her state, continued to his locker to retrieve something. She quickly gathered her wits, feeling very confused at her own reaction to what he had said. Before she knew it, he was at the door and she followed him, her heartbeat still feeling very loud as she tried to process what he had said to her, almost missing him speaking again.

"Let's find Jack; he must be done by now."


	2. Chapter 2

_Bit of a short one; Lost City Parts I and II have a lot of things going on, leaving little room for personal moments. The next one will go into A New Order where there is a bit more leeway. Thank you for reading. :) _

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Three members of SG-1 were aboard a Tel'tak loaned to them by Ronan, a Jaffa who had offered his services to Teal'c and Bra'tac in SG-1's quest for the Lost City of the Ancients. Ronan and the elder Jaffa piloted the vessel, making full use of the former's purported exceptional piloting skills. In the cargo area, Daniel was perched on a crate, writing in his notebook to pass the time and to focus his mind as they embarked on yet another do-or-die, very likely hell-raising adventure. Periodically, he discreetly glanced at Jack, his friend sat on the floor of the compartment, his back against a large yellow crate. Jack O'Neill may have been a man of very few words, or at least _appropriate _words, but this had to have been the quietest and least fidgety the Colonel had been.

His thoughts returned to their predicament, specifically to Jack's. It should have been him. Not that Jack didn't have it in him, but who better than someone with his skills, knowledge, and expertise, to be able to actually experience the Ancients, to have their knowledge and to be able to interpret it? Perhaps he was being selfish; Jack after all essentially pulled rank on him and had told him that he was needed to interpret whatever he would inevitably say as the Ancient knowledge expanded within his mind. But that wasn't the same. Sometimes, his friends were too protective; so willing to each jump into harm's way to protect everyone else but not for him to take the same risks. Okay, he wasn't military, and okay, he was gone for a year, but still.

During one such musing, he inadvertently caught Jack's eye, the archaeologist twirling his pen in thought, his writing forgotten. The Colonel looked at Daniel, annoyed a little at the scrutiny, aware for some time that he had been looking at him but choosing to ignore it; quite frankly, he had bigger fish to fry than Daniel's guilt. The guy would make a good Catholic some days if he were that way inclined. Though he knew what he was about to say, he still asked,

"What?!"

Daniel tried to look stoic but failed. He said sombrely, "I would have done it, you know."

He didn't need to elaborate. He knew. He also knew why he did it; he was expendable, as much as the idea didn't exactly sit well with him. True leadership was knowing your assets: Daniel would translate all the _Anquietas _stuff, and Carter would be needed to soup up the _technologia. _He blinked to himself, unsure if his thoughts were being taken over. So Daniel wouldn't start fussing and turning the tub around, he answered nonchalantly,

"I know."

Knowing that Daniel would continue flogging himself verbally, which would no doubt infuriate him at having to listen to it, he spoke again, mainly to distract the archaeologist and as a means of deflection. Also, he didn't want to hear reassurances; they needed to find the Lost City and find a way to defeat Anubis once and for all. Whether he came out of it the other side would be something else they would have to concentrate on down the line; not now.

"You'd think they'd put seats in these things; maybe a screen with the flight path or a cheap movie."

Daniel smiled humourlessly, returning to his writing, or at least pretending to write. He felt a little too wired to focus on that. He looked up at him again and said,

"I'm sure if you ask Elizabeth nicely..."

Jack turned his head to regard the archaeologist for a moment, his eyebrows raised. They had barely known Doctor Weir five minutes; typical Daniel to be on a first name basis already. Next they'll be... he paused; something clicked. He smirked a little, turning his head back to the front. About time, Danny boy. The smirk faded as Daniel carried on being, well, Daniel, trying to give him hope. He considered throwing something at his friend, or at least shaking him by the shoulders and telling him to act normal, like his head wasn't about to explode with _Anquietas _stuff any moment soon. Thankfully Carter chose that moment to join them. Maybe she had an aspirin for the growing pain in his _fron. _

Without being asked, she updated him on their progress. He mentally rolled his eyes as she then asked him how he was. These people needed to stop; they were on a mission, for cryin' out loud. If only Teal'c was with them; he knew how to behave in a crisis. He wasn't a genius but he knew that this was much bigger than the _avernarkis. _Okay, maybe just the _galaxias. _Ugh, his head was beginning to pound and these people didn't want to be around him when that happened; the last time, he was pretty sure he slammed a _porta_ right in Daniel's face.


	3. Chapter 3

They were back; not completely: Jack was in some kind of stasis. Despite Daniel's initial resolve to move on, his chest ached a little as he watched Sam, bereft, call their commanding officer by his first name – something which he had rarely seen either of them do to one another. His mind was a complex cacophony of emotions, thoughts, and some excitement admittedly. He had hope for Jack – he wasn't gone – they could get help, like last time, surely? And they would find the Lost City of the Ancients.

He had barely seen anyone since their return to the SGC, so he continued to prepare for the international negotiations regarding Antarctica, with the hope that a base could be set up to defend Earth from such a strategic location. Elizabeth came to update him on the talks' progress, which frustrated him although why, he wasn't sure as he knew it would never be plain sailing with the US' international image and at best debatable foreign policy. No-one wanted the US to run the show, or at least have what appeared to be sufficient power to fight off Anubis' forces – and by not a huge leap of logic, other countries – which was fair enough, and ordinarily he would have agreed, had Jack's life and well being not been hanging in the balance.

Following a discussion with Elizabeth, she was about to leave when he said, "Doctor Weir." When she looked at him reprovingly, he said, a touch bashful, "Elizabeth."

She smiled slightly, standing in the doorway as she looked at him expectantly. He said, glancing at the floor with a shrug, "When all this is over... do you want to go for a drink?"

She looked at him, surprised, and admittedly somewhat flattered. She was about to reply, when he said with another shrug, looking away as he returned to putting more books into his bag, "Sorry, that was uncalled for..."

She said with a shy smile, "No, it wasn't." He looked up, a little surprised, and she said, "A drink would be great. It would be nice to get to know all of you outside of the Mountain." She paused, appearing momentarily curious. "I've been reading up on Jaffa culture; does Teal'c drink?"

He paused, looking at her in confusion. He then said, realising what she had meant, "Ah... um..." He glanced at the floor awkwardly. "That's not quite what I meant."

She smiled at him cryptically and said, as she walked away, "We'll have to sync our calendars."

He stared at where she had been for a moment, continuing to be confused at what had happened. Had he been out of the dating game so long that any remotely romantic invitations were now being construed as team events? He shrugged to himself and resumed his previous task; a drink was a drink after all, and whatever the circumstance, it would be a welcome relief from the frustration of the international mess he was about to witness. He could only hope to be part of any rescue effort to recover Jack, or at least to summon the Asgard.

His thoughts were interrupted by a sound of footsteps at the door again. He looked up to see Sam stood in the doorway. She looked at him, noting his flustered expression and said a touch bashful, "Bad time?"

He rolled his eyes and put a book down on the desk as she entered his office. He said with a shrug, "Isn't it always?"

She picked up an item from a bookshelf and looked at it distractedly. He watched her, waiting for her to speak. He had worked with her long enough to know something was on her mind. To him, it was blindingly obvious: Jack. Him being in any kind of danger when they were not in it with him had always been a sore spot for her. He smiled slightly to himself wistfully; this was why he would never try to have the conversation he had intended with Elizabeth – there was too much baggage, and he enjoyed working with Sam, even if he could never be anything more than a friend to her. It was enough; it had to be. This _thing _between two of his friends – that no-one ever talked about – had always been there. He would give his life for her if need be, and there suddenly came a realisation that though he would do the same for Teal'c and indeed Jack, it would not be quite the same.

He looked down at the desk next to him and thought of having a good talk with himself about his timing. Even if the _thing _wasn't a thing; she was dating someone. He cleared his throat, forcing himself to clear his thoughts, for many reasons – namely everything that was going on: international talks, Jack being in stasis, and no doubt many other things of galactic importance. He looked at Sam, who looked back at him, her expression for once, unreadable to him. When she wanted to hide her emotions, when she _really_ wanted to, she could certainly give them all a run for their money.

She said, feigning casualness, "How are you doing?"

He glanced upwards, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. He said back to her, "How are _you _doing?" He knew that whenever she was directly asking him how he was doing, it was generally either when he was laid up in the Infirmary or when she _really_ wanted to distract herself from something. Though they were friendly and had become even closer since his return from Vis Uban especially, she rarely took a direct interest in him like this; she could be playful at times and defensive of him, but not genuinely curious about him as a person beyond their work.

She, distracted, picked up another artefact and looked at it. He looked up at the ceiling. This was almost as bad as talking to Jack. She said, not looking at him, "What did Doctor Weir want?"

He looked at her, confused at the tone of her voice and that she wasn't looking at him. He said with a shrug as he perched on his desk, "Oh, she was just updating me on the international talks." He chuckled sardonically, scratching the back of his head as he glanced at the ground. "Typically, they're not going _great_ right now."

Expecting further questions, he was confused further when she just said, "Oh," still not looking at him.

He said with a sigh, looking at her sarcastically as he folded his arms across his chest, "But that's not what you came to talk about."

He was expecting her to mention Jack and he mentally rolled his eyes, thinking that he really didn't want her to confirm what they _all _knew. She reluctantly tore her eyes away from the artefact and said, looking dejected, "Did you get to ask her?"

Once again confused, he asked, his arms still folded, "Ask who and what?"

"Doctor Weir. You said you were going to ask her out."

His face reddening, he cleared his throat and looked at the floor, his arms folded. He had forgotten about that conversation, and quite frankly, he was surprised that, one: she was bringing it up, and two: why she looked so sad about it; just how much did she want to distract herself from Jack's plight? He finally met her gaze and said with a shrug, feigning casualness, "She's looking at her calendar." He unfolded his arms and continued, looking down again, "And to be honest, there's so much going on right now – I don't see how we're going to have time anyway."

He looked up, surprised to see that she was no longer in his office. As he questioned his sanity, he noticed the displaced artefact that she had been fiddling with, and he wondered what on Earth had just happened. He shrugged himself, patting his thighs as he went about resuming sorting books into his bag. His thoughts turned to Jack and he hoped he could talk Elizabeth into letting them contact the Asgard; his sacrifice could not have been in vain.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

After persuading Elizabeth to let her and Teal'c venture out in the modified cargo ship to find the Asgard, Sam wandered slowly back to her lab, a great many thoughts pressing on her mind. There would be a huge chance that they would be stranded out there, if they even reached Othalla at all. She couldn't have Daniel there stranded with them; it would be too much. She scrubbed her weary face with her hands and sighed silently in frustration; this was messed up. What the hell was she doing? She was seeing someone; someone outside of the confines of Cheyenne Mountain and galactic warfare; he was different, he was nice, he was... normal; he was what she needed right now. She paused in a lonely stretch of corridor and closed her eyes. But he wasn't Daniel. Feelings long presumed buried rose to the surface once again. She resumed walking slowly, blinking in surprise as it felt as though a light had switched on inside her head. Despite her misgivings, she smiled a little, allowing herself one small mercy before yet another life and death mission.

She reached her lab, which was mercifully devoid of any colleagues, and entered, closing the door behind her. She rested her back against the door and closed her eyes, rolling her head back against the door. She was a mess. The first chance of actual happiness she had dared to take, the chance for a _normal _life – whatever _normal_ was – and she was wrecking it over feelings for someone who clearly didn't see her the way she had, in private moments, wanted him to see her. They were really really good friends, and that had to be enough... right? She scoffed to herself; who was she kidding?Her thoughts were interrupted by the turning of the door handle; the movement startled her a little and she moved away from the door as it opened.

And there he was. She glanced away briefly, scared her eyes would give away what was preying on her mind. Daniel paused in the doorway as he regarded her. He said, a touch awkwardly, "Ah, sorry, I..." He paused again. He then asked, concerned at her subdued countenance, "What's wrong?" Before she could answer, he rolled his eyes and said, "Okay, other than Jack being in stasis and you and Teal'c risking your lives to try to find the Asgard."

She looked back at him, about to speak, when he said, looking at his feet, "I... I know how hard it must be for you." He met her gaze again. "He's our friend, but it's different for you." Before she could say anything, he carried on again, with a shrug, "Well, anywho..." Not sure what else to say about the _thing_ no-one really talked about, he put his hands in his pockets and said, feigning casualness, "I... I guess I'll see you in the gate room."

And with that, he was gone. She closed her eyes for a moment to quell the tears that surged. The _great_ thing about not talking about things this close to home is that they were open to interpretation. Even her friend was convinced she was holding a candle for their commanding officer. She steeled herself and gave herself a stern telling off; she was at work – these were dangerous feelings that she needed to push back down again. There were much bigger things afoot than whether Daniel Jackson even saw her in any other way than a friend and colleague. When she had sufficiently forced herself into a state of composure – somewhat harder than it usually was – she took a deep breath and emerged from the lab to get ready for their upcoming mission.


	4. Chapter 4

It wasn't often that Samantha Carter stayed perplexed by complicated phenomena. Usually, if it was why the Colonel was acting a certain way, she would look to Daniel; if it was something within her fields of expertise, she would eventually work it out after studying it, or looking at it with a fresh perspective or from completely out of the box. But this; this was beyond her, she was ashamed almost to say. She wasn't sure how long she had been there, but she stared at the wires, circuits, relays, and other gadgetry, and for the life of her, she could not work out how Colonel O'Neill had modified the cargo ship they were on. She briefly allowed herself to be in awe, before sighing in despair and running her fingers through her hair. If they didn't make it to Othalla, she wouldn't have a hope in hell figuring out how to repair the ship. They would be stranded.

Exhaling dramatically, and mercifully being alone in that part of the ship, she looked towards the supplies she had packed for the journey. Maybe she needed some food; maybe Teal'c needed some food – that was a good enough reason to stop. Truth be told, she hadn't got much sleep this week – none of them had. She tried not to think of _him_ so many light years away. Instead, she tried to focus on getting to where they had a slim chance of getting: to the Asgard, and the possibly equal chance of getting the Colonel back.

Well, she tried anyway. She wandered into the cockpit to see Teal'c piloting the vessel as they came out of hyperspace. Maybe she could distract herself by engaging him in conversation; though she knew he was never one for small talk. When he declined food, she sat down in the co-pilot's chair and, feeling defeated, picked at the sandwich that she held. If this was Daniel with her, he would have at least tried to make conversation; Teal'c, on the other hand, was too respectful and efficient with his speech despite the Colonel's efforts over the years.

Still, she tried. In a short space of time, she found out that Ry'ac, Ish'ta, and Bra'tac were all _fine. _It wasn't even sarcasm; they were 'fine'. Not 'well', she noted, but 'fine', adequate, not bad, presumably not in peril. She closed her eyes briefly. She needed him to be someone else right now; to distract her from everything. When she prompted him – almost pleaded with him – to be more talkative, his next words cut through her like a knife.

"How is Pete Shanahan?"

She closed her eyes briefly again, feeling tears stinging her eyes. No, she was not going to; not on a mission; it was bad enough in her lab, let alone however many light years away from Earth, on a life and death mission, and in front of one of her team. She muttered a response similar to Teal'c's earlier, her heart feeling as though it was sinking in her chest. She needed to talk to Pete; in all of the drama of getting here, and her selfishness of pining after Daniel, she hadn't called him. Not that she had forgotten; there just didn't seem to be time. And with that realisation came shame; white hot shame. She had made time for other things far less important than this mission; far less important than he should have been.

Sensing the turn her thoughts had taken, Teal'c glanced at her. He asked, the slightest concern showing through his usually stoic countenance, "Is not all well between the two of you?"

She replied a bit too hastily as tears threatened to appear once again, "No, everything is great!" She paused pensively, as though measuring her words. She couldn't let Teal'c lose confidence in her as a colleague; she had already lost any confidence in her objectivity right now. Her gaze dropped as thoughts of Daniel yet again came to the fore; not Pete. "It's just... as you well know, it's not easy saying 'goodbye' to someone you care about when you think there's a chance you may never see them again." When he nodded slightly in acknowledgement, understanding her predicament, at least in principle, she continued, "I know that's a risk we take every time we step through the Stargate, but... still, I'm trying to stay positive."

She tried to smile, tried to appear brave, but even she was pretty sure she grimaced. She was about to leave, to find an excuse to hide, at least briefly, when Teal'c spoke,

"MajorCarter."

She blinked, resuming her seat. For a man of very few words, he knew how to command her attention. Occasionally, she wondered if his voice could wake the dead. Expecting him to warn her of something in their vicinity, she looked towards the viewscreen. Not seeing anything particularly objectionable, she was about to scrutinise the controls, when Teal'c said, his expression, as ever, unreadable,

"We will succeed." He smiled very slightly and albeit quite cryptically as he regarded her for a moment. "And we will see both _DanielJackson_ and O'Neill again."

She blinked in surprise. She stammered, embarrassed; had she been that obvious? Not sure how to voice her inner turmoil, and not used to be this personal with Teal'c, she hurriedly left the cockpit, muttering something about getting him a sandwich. She had to get away from him. She needed to be more careful around her team-mates. Teal'c meanwhile allowed the smallest of smirks onto his face: as much as MajorCarter was a proficient warrior but that proficiency did not stretch to concealing her emotions.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Daniel hated being left behind: it caused him to think – not for the first time – that the others didn't take him seriously as a... well, okay, not a soldier, but over the years he could certainly hold his own in a hostile situation. Jack would have never left him behind. He paused, sentimentalism having briefly clouded his thoughts. Who was he kidding? Jack would have gone straight into the fray without any back up; as would Teal'c. Daniel leaned back in his chair, in his office, staring at the ceiling. A small voice in the back of his mind reminded him that he may have to answer questions as to how several pencils had found themselves embedded in the ceiling, but he didn't care. He was never one to enjoy being the one left behind; in times past, at least he would have been involved in something that used his skills; hell, they had used him in negotiations before now. A rueful expression crossed his face. He hadn't heard anything about the international negotiations taking place; he was deemed too involved in the programme to take part, but surely they would need his insight to focus their minds, even if an armada of alien ships hadn't already done that.

With a weary sigh, feeling at a loss, he ventured out from his office, aiming for Elizabeth's office. She must have heard something by now; this was tortuous not feeling involved in anything, while Sam and Teal'c were on a life and death mission, and while Jack was in stasis. His thoughts turned to earlier that week, before Sam and Teal'c had left; she had seemed distracted, out of sorts, even. He had never seen her quite so awkward, and he wondered – not for the first time – whether she was considering resigning so she could... he grimaced in disgust at that thought. Nuh-uh, not now.

He suddenly found himself at Elizabeth's office, vaguely wondering how he had got there. He sighed. There were bigger fish to fry than what Sam was going to do in her personal life. He ought to be more bothered about his friends overall, and of course the international negotiations. A little glad of the distraction, he knocked on the door, seeing Elizabeth sat at her desk, reading a sheaf of papers. Almost knowing what she would say, his frustration and impatience threatening to come to the fore, he asked her if she had heard anything from the negotiations.


End file.
